


Stranded

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Conversations [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Conversations, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8098918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: After an encounter with bandits, in which they were outnumbered, Arthur and his knights are injured and trying to make their way back to Camelot. Merlin has only grown more and more tired of the way Arthur treats him as weak and in the way. After the fight, both stressed and irritated, they push each other too far, and stray dangerously close to a conversation they never have.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Stranded围困](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9874508) by [Loukid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loukid/pseuds/Loukid)



Merlin hissed again as his arm throbbed painfully. He brushed the tips of his fingers gently over the binding, wincing even from that. What a mess. Several knights wounded, Arthur wounded, and all because the prat wouldn’t stop checking on him. If his stupid charge was more focused on saving his own skin, and watching his opponent, Merlin could have used his magic and actually been of some help. Instead, he’d been forced to cower against a tree like he was weak, and helpless, watching that idiot keep checking that he was still where he’d told him to stay. Watching Arthur take a wound had been bad enough, but to see the look that had formed on his face when Merlin had tackled his opponent, earning his own wound in the process... 

Shivering, he shifted closer to the fire. They probably shouldn’t have a fire, but Arthur had thought it safe that night. They’d managed to take out almost all of the bandits, and they would take time to regroup if they came after them again for revenge. Even outnumbered, the knights had done well, but it could have easily gone the other way. Merlin was lucky not to have been wounded worse. If he’d been attacked while the other knights were busy, what could he have done with Arthur continuously checking on him? The risk of exposure would have been too high. Tackling that bandit had been a mistake his arm had paid for, but it had been his only choice without using magic.

He’d never seen Arthur look so furious. The stupid fool probably thought Merlin had got in the way, instead of saving his life. Merlin brushed his fingers over the makeshift bandage again, flinching. Their desperate flight had cost them their supplies, and nothing useful grew nearby. Even as he looked around, eyes landing on each sleeping knight, he knew he couldn’t risk casting any magic, not even to properly cleanse the wound.

Injured, he was a burden that would be watched more closely. That was always the way with their prat of a prince. Some days he really just wanted to call fire to his hands and show Arthur who he really was, what he really was. He was not weak, and never would be. Only, no one could know, unless he wanted to burn. Shifting his eyes to the fire, he wondered idly if he could stop the flames from harming him. It wasn’t the first time his mind had wandered in that direction.

Even though it hurt, he brushed his fingers over the bandage again. 

“Stop playing with it.”

Releasing a yelp that was, as always, far too high pitched to be acceptable, Merlin whipped around to see Arthur limp nearer the fire. The Prince sat next to him, running his eyes over the bandage on his arm, as Merlin did the same to the one on his thigh. That had been close, too close. A little more to the right…

“You should be sleeping, we’re going to be moving all day tomorrow,” Arthur said quietly.

Merlin felt his face twist in an angry scowl before he could stop it. He hated the casual implication that he was too weak. Averting his eyes, he waited until he felt calmer. Arthur was a lot less accepting of his insubordination when someone was wounded, and a great many of them were. Absently, he brushed his thumb over the edge of his bandage.

A strong grip suddenly pulled his hand away, and Merlin looked back with wide eyes.

“Stop touching it!” Arthur said again, more forcefully.

Merlin dropped his eyes to where his hand was being gripped tightly, and nodded. A moment later, Arthur let him go.

“It needs cleaning,” Merlin said. “It’s going to fester.”

Arthur made an angry sound. “You should have used some of the water!”

Merlin winced from the anger in his voice. He hated the way he flinched away like that; it only made Arthur see further weakness where there wasn’t any. It wasn’t the anger he flinched from, it was the implication that he’d failed Arthur somehow. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t clean his wound, there hadn’t been enough water for everyone. He’d prioritised the more severe injuries, the ones most dirtied by the fight. How was he supposed to make it stretch enough for all of them?

“There were others more wounded than I,” he muttered, his eyes flicking to Arthur’s face to gauge his reaction. Arthur was like a cornered, wounded animal when his knights were injured, and could shift between dangerously strong moods with no warning. It was not the time to be loose with his words.

Arthur stared back at him for some time, his eyes falling to the bandage on Merlin’s right arm, and then back to his face. Merlin wished he could do something to prove to Arthur that he wasn’t the liability that he thought he was. Maybe if Arthur spent less time getting irritated over his perceived weakness, they’d be able to move faster.

“Can you last until we reach the castle?” Arthur asked, a thread of urgency to his voice. “If it festers, how bad will it be by then? Life threatening?”

“How far away are we?” Merlin asked, although he already knew the answer. Planning ahead usually calmed Arthur. He wanted to say that a simple knife wound to his arm wasn’t going to take him down, but he’d seen men die from less, once festering set in.

“Still three days, at this pace,” Arthur said, his eyes roaming over the sleeping bodies of his wounded knights. As always, they slept like the dead, and would only wake to a threatening sound. “Can you find useful herbs along the way?”

Merlin scowled. What kind of question was that? Arthur knew he spent a great deal of time collecting herbs for Gaius; he took great pleasure in piling more work on him if he took too long doing it.

“I have been looking,” he said, unable to hide the irritation in his tone. “When I find anything of use, I’ll use it on the worst injuries.”

Arthur turned back to him, his face twisted in anger again. “You’ll use it on yourself!” he snapped.

“My wound is nothing compared to theirs, it won’t slow me down. I won’t slow us down!”

His words caused a strange expression to twist Arthur’s features, and his eyes to drop to the bandage in question. Merlin could almost see the thoughts turning in his mind. No doubt he was thinking of the best insults to lay on him, for getting in the way and getting himself hurt. All of the knights could treat wounds, they didn’t need him. Or at least, they didn’t think they did. He had to stay with them, they were too injured. If it came down to it, and they were attacked again, Merlin would use his magic to protect them, even if it meant his arrest.

“It’s worse than you’re admitting,” Arthur hissed. “I’m not an idiot, Merlin!”

“I’ll be fine! And you are an idiot if you think I’m so weak that I can’t bear a scratch on the arm!” Merlin snapped, tired of Arthur treating him as if he was weak. He’d been getting worse and worse, and it was finally too much. “Why do you insist I come with you, only to get angry when something like this happens? I’m not a soldier, but I’m not weak either!”

“Quiet!” Arthur hissed, looking around them. “You’ll wake the others!”

Merlin only scowled. Of course, it wouldn’t do for the knights to see him speak back to the Prince, even if the prat deserved it. Normally he was content with his lot, accepting of his destiny. Other times, like that moment, he just wanted to mutter a word and have Arthur suddenly pelted with mud, or find himself in a dress. In fact, if he wasn’t injured, Merlin would have no qualms with sending him flying across the clearing. It would almost be worth the consequences, just to see his face as he realised Merlin was nowhere near as weak as he thought he was.

“Sorry, Sire,” he muttered petulantly, sarcastically. He didn’t what had got into him, but he just wanted his arm to stop throbbing and Arthur to stop thinking he was so weak. “Shall I go look for some water then, solve all our problems?”

A variety of expressions passed over Arthur’s face, and some of them were almost amusing, though they did nothing to lift Merlin’s mood. Sometimes he wished he could go back to those early days, when he’d hated him, and not bothered to care what he thought of him.

A warm hand suddenly pressing to his forehead startled him from his thoughts, and he pulled away, eyes widening again. Then there was that. Arthur kept touching him like he was fragile. He still clouted him around the head, but even the slightest sign of tiredness or pain, and it was warm, gentle presses of his hand instead. It was like the prat thought he would break, and it infuriated him.

“Not fevered then, just quite mad, as per usual,” Arthur said quietly, his voice oddly strained, and a similarly tense smile pulling at his lips.

“How is that mad?” Merlin snapped, knowing he was probably stepping over the line and no longer caring. “We need water, I’m not sleeping, I may as well look for some.”

Arthur frowned, his expression darkening rapidly. Merlin shivered. Maybe Arthur was right, and he had gone mad. He knew Arthur’s mood was easily shifted when his knights were wounded, why would he be so stupid to snap at him? They weren’t alone, he only got away with that when they were alone.

“Those bandits might still be out there!” Arthur hissed, leaning closer. “We’re outnumbered, we’re wounded. You can’t seriously think it’s a good idea to go wandering around on your own in the dark looking for water?”

Merlin clenched his jaw. It was, in fact, a brilliant idea. If the bandits did regroup and come after them, maybe he’d stumble into them. Then he could take care of them without the danger of being caught. Only, he couldn’t tell Arthur that. Keeping his magic a secret only became harder and harder as time went on. It was once much easier to use his magic to help, but now Arthur always seemed to be watching him, waiting for him to get in the way, or get hurt.

“We need water,” he said stubbornly. “You know the general direction to Camelot, but not this area of woodland. We have no guarantee of stumbling across a stream as we go. Three days is too long for wounded men.”

“I have Leon and Caselus scouting for water and food while we move tomorrow,” Arthur said firmly, eyes darting about the sleeping knights before landing on him again. “Get some sleep, Merlin. That’s an order.”

Merlin felt a wave of irritation, and twisted to face him more directly. Arthur’s brows rose as he took in Merlin’s anger, and his jaw clenched.

“Why risk the only two who aren’t wounded?” Merlin hissed. “You’ll need them if the bandits find us. I only have an injured arm, I can easily search out some water if you’d just let me!”

Arthur grabbed his uninjured arm in a tight grip, pulling him uncomfortably close. Merlin frowned and leaned back. He wasn’t looking angry, as he’d expected, but afraid.

“You are not wandering around these woods on your own while those bandits are out there,” he hissed. “What would you do if they found you? Trip and land right on their swords!”

Merlin felt his face heat up with anger. How he ached to tell him the truth. All he’d have to do is extend his arm, and they’d all go flying away from him. It wasn’t something he could ever do when there were knights about, but alone…alone he could rid them of the threat and ensure they made it back to Camelot without further injury. Arthur’s perception of him as weak and bumbling had been amusing for a while, but as time went on it was becoming irritating, and dangerous.

“At least I know to keep my eyes on my opponent,” he snapped back, before he could stop himself.

The hand on his upper arm relaxed for a moment, like Arthur was going to let him go. His eyes widened, and then narrowed, and he only held him tighter.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked darkly. 

Merlin swallowed. He knew better than to question Arthur’s swordsmanship at the best of times, but to do so while almost his entire contingent of knights lay wounded, days away from Camelot…he’d be lucky if he only ended up in the stocks.

“Forget it,” he muttered. Arthur’s jaw clenched, as did his hand. Merlin winced. “Sire,” he added.

“Oh, don’t stop now,” Arthur said, his voice tight, “you’ve never let your station get in the way before.”

Merlin knew he’d gone too far. There was a line between them, and it always shifted. Somehow, he knew where it was at all times, and he kept to his side of it. He never truly overstepped, although he did dance along its edge at times. When Arthur was like this, when he and his knights were wounded and still in danger, that line was all but invisible to Merlin. 

“You should rest,” Merlin said, looking down at Arthur’s leg. His wound would only get worse with them walking every day. “Your woun—”

“I asked you a question, Merlin,” Arthur interrupted, looking stubborn. 

Merlin’s eyes darted around the sleeping knights again. Surely he didn’t want Merlin to voice doubts about his ability to fight when one of his knights could wake up and overhear. He knew it was unlikely, but still.

“You weren’t paying attention,” Merlin said, carefully, still hoping Arthur would drop the issue. They were skirting dangerously close to conversations they never had.

Arthur scoffed, shoving him lightly. “As if you’d know anything about it.”

Merlin felt hot again. There it was, Arthur treating him like he was useless, just because he didn’t know advanced combat. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from snapping something back at him. The tension had been diffused, speaking again would only make things worse.

“Admit it,” Arthur teased, “you’re just embarrassed that I saved your arse.”

Merlin bristled immediately. “You didn’t save me!” he snapped. “I pushed him out of the way before he could kill you, because you were too busy checking on me to see him come at you again!”

Arthur turned red, but Merlin was beyond caring. He couldn’t believe his nerve, claiming to have saved him. Merlin had saved his life, yet again, and finally without magic, and what happened? It got turned around to make Arthur the hero.

Instead of the angry words that he expected, Arthur’s voice was quiet, calm.

“Of course I was checking on you,” he said. “We were outnumbered, there were too many. One of them would have got to you and then—”

“And then I would have handled it!” Merlin snapped. “You can’t keep doing that Arthur, you know better than to take your eyes off your opponent.”

Arthur scoffed. “What would you have done? What could you have done?”

“I’m not defenceless!” Merlin snapped, probably louder than he should have. Glancing around, he was glad to see that none of the knights had woken.

“What would you do then?” Arthur asked, his tone scornful. “If one of them had got to you while we were all busy? What would you have done?”

Merlin grit his teeth. He wanted to say it, it was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t protect Arthur, he couldn’t fulfil his destiny, if he was running from Uther. So he said nothing.

“That’s what I thought,” Arthur said. “You’re my servant, it’s my job to protect you.”

Merlin felt like he was shaking, he was so angry. Arthur was looking at him strangely again, almost softly. The sight only made him feel more angry. He wasn’t some fragile pet that needed Arthur’s protection. He’d never wanted to use magic on Arthur more. He wanted to wipe that soft look right off his face and show him just how unnecessary his protection was. 

“You can’t protect me if you’re dead.”

Silence followed Merlin’s angry words, words he hadn’t even realised were on his tongue. Immediately, he wanted to take them back. He was trying to stop Arthur’s incessant and dangerous attempts to protect him, and he’d just said the wrong thing.

Arthur was looking rather shocked by his words, his expression clearing into something alarmingly blank. Merlin couldn’t even feel pleased by surprising him, because they’d strayed into the type of conversation they just didn’t have, not unless one of them was close to death.

A frown wrinkled Arthur’s brow, and he lifted his arm as if to reach out and touch him.

“Merl—”

“Sire?”

They both startled. Leon stood nearby, awkwardly. Merlin flushed, wondering how much he’d heard. He hated the knights seeing him as weak, almost as much as he hated Arthur viewing him that way. 

Arthur leaned away, and Merlin was surprised by how close they had got. He should never have started them on that thread of conversation, not in such a situation. Arthur was so unpredictable at times like this that Merlin just didn’t know what to say or how to react.

“Yes, Leon?”

Leon continued to address the space above Arthur’s shoulder, making Merlin cringe. He’d definitely heard enough to know he was interrupting something, even if Merlin himself didn’t know what it was.

“You wanted to start moving before dawn. Now is the time you specified,” the knight said, sounding rather hesitant.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Thank you, wake the others.”

Leon nodded, pointedly didn’t look at either of them, and then went to his task. Merlin felt as if his face was red, and hoped he was wrong. He couldn’t quite decide if he was happy they’d been interrupted. What would Arthur have said in reply to his statement? What was there to say? 

As the Knights gathered around Arthur, holding each other up, some on makeshift crutches, Merlin eyed Arthur’s leg again. He really should have been using crutches too, but he knew that was a battle he would lose.

“Alright, men,” Arthur said, looking around him. “We don’t know if they’re still following us, but if they are, they’re unlikely to be moving now. We’ll use the advantage to push ahead. Leon, scout for water and food, don’t stray too far.”

Leon nodded, all business, as if he hadn’t interrupted a serious conversation mere minutes earlier. Merlin scowled. If there was any fighting, Arthur would need Leon there to protect him.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, and Merlin almost hurt his neck turning his head so fast, “if your arm can take it, assist Leon.”

Merlin felt his eyes widen in disbelief, but Arthur had already moved on, issuing other commands. Leon came to stand beside him, and Merlin just blinked stupidly at Arthur, barely able to comprehend. Was that an indication he’d listened, or did he just want Merlin away from him after that awkward conversation?

In the end, he didn’t much care. Leon wouldn’t watch him as closely as Arthur, and if anything happened he’d be more free to act. He might even be able to cast some magic while he wasn’t looking, to help find water or food. Feeling cheered, a smile slipped onto his face. 

As everyone set about, falling into a broken looking formation and starting to hobble along as best they could, Arthur turned back. Placing a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, he leaned close, looking him in the eye.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said, holding eye contact for an almost uncomfortable amount of time, before pulling away and limping towards the rest of the knights.

Merlin stared after him for a moment, unsure how he felt about Arthur's actions. As he and Leon moved to scout around the main group, he kept an eye open for opportunities to use magic. Three days was too long for simple scouting, they needed his kind of intervention.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first attempt at writing in the Merlin fandom, please excuse any fandom errors! I haven't written enough to get a good handle on their characterisations yet!
> 
> Feedback would be really appreciated as this is a new fandom for me to be writing in!
> 
> I plan to do 2 more short oneshots following this, to practise writing them, but I can't promise they'll be written and uploaded quickly.
> 
> Beta'd by [ylime94](http://ylime94.tumblr.com).


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